


Burn the Past Away

by Duare



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Alternate Universe - Space Opera, Alternative Universe - Kings, Biblical References, Gen, M/M, references to science fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 04:18:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4005613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duare/pseuds/Duare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Thousands of years ago there was an array of planets and then The Father came, and he brought his traditions and his science and knowledge. And he and his large family of twelve sons populated all those planets, and they mixed with the local population, and it was good.<br/>And the Twelve Sons formed the Twelve Tribes and they divided that black area in The Twelve Worlds and it's was good. Until it wasn't any more. And then Chaos happened.<br/>This is the tale of what happened after Chaos. This is a tale of re-Evolution."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn the Past Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mcl4r3n](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcl4r3n/gifts).



> U, it's definitely an AU; kind of Kings-ish AU but as I haven't actually watched the series I decided to go directly to the original source and write a GK space opera biblical AU.  
> So yeah, tons and tons of biblical reference, science fiction references, some character names and age changes and a very liberal use of the word "prophet".

 

(prophet's voices)

  
  


> _"The world as we knew it was burning to ashes, Dog. That's what happens when you leave the destiny of our people in the hands of twelve old fuckers for years, the same old creepy greedy ones, man! Those motherfuckers might have been nice and shiny in their youth, man. They had that good plan about how the Twelve Tribes should be, but after centuries of elongating their sorry asses seeking to maintain the power no matter what, the Tribes were but only a shadow of what the Twelve sons dreamt."_
> 
> __  
>    
> 
> 
> _"It was bad Karma, my friend."_
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> _"Fucking A it was bad Karma, bro! That segregated system was shit no matter what the White Men thought at the beginning, and it ended being even shittier with all the vicious corruption that overpowered it."_
> 
> __  
>    
> 
> 
> _"Until Chaos, he kicked ass brah..."_
> 
> __  
>    
> 
> 
> _"Of course he did! Another White Man from Gad tribe, ready to judge his people. But that motherfucker surprised all the lot biting their asses. The lion leaped against the system and its injustice instead of crushing the poor; it was fucking beautiful, that's what it was."_
> 
> __  
>    
> 
> 
> _"Nah, naah, naaah man! That's not what happened and you know it! Well, that happened but he didn't do it for justice and shit man! I'll tell you what, what happened is that Chaos sniffed really good pussy from the benjaminians. You know what I mean, those loved ones are like the best pussy of the tribes man, they were bred just for that. So there was Chaos, all fucking in-pussy-love for some benjamin chick and then the fuckers made him go fight against those fucking hajis and the good-pussy was given to some old fat from Asher and Chaos was devastated and shit. And because Gad people are like a shock troops man, they jump and kill that's what Chaos did."_
> 
> __  
>    
> 
> 
> _"So, are you saying that the revolution that abolished the tribes segregated system, that fought for the equal opportunities for every individual no matter what tribe one was born in, no matter what you breeding said or what you training had been until that moment was not actually instigated by the need to end a decrepit unfair system but because of pussy?"_
> 
> __  
>    
> 
> 
> _"Yeah homes, that's exactly what I'm saying!"_
> 
> __  
>    
> 
> 
> _"Not for freedom? Not for the chance of a better world? Not for equal social rights?"_
> 
> __  
>    
> 
> 
> _"No man, I'm telling you it was all about pussy! And anyway, what freedom and rights, homes ?"_
> 
> _  
>    
>  _
> 
> _"Yeah man, Chaos being a motherfucker from Gad with more guts than brains, decided that the best way of granting everybody equal rights was to have no rights at all. It's genius brother, you have to give that to the White Man"_

  
  


**********************************

  
  
  


Nathaniel Fick was ten years old when the Chaos uprising began, and by the time things were settled enough to contemplate the next phase of his training, the Equality for Skills Developing, Training and Education law had already been passed.

 

Being from the tribe of Judah, Nate was expected to study the classic texts, law, mathematics, physics, geometry and the likes. Before the uprising he was more than probably going to end working as a politician advisor for one of the Twelve Son's Heirs administrations, like his parents. Maybe if he had pushed things, he could have ended being an advocate or a judge, a high spatial architect, or even a physician doctor .

 

Now he could choose whatever he wanted; at least that was what the new law said. On the day to day practice, more often than not people from one tribe still found it nearly impossible to get into a different training track. Unless you were some kind of child prodigy, or your family had enough funds.

 

The Fick clan was a prosper Judah family; too libertarian for some of the most conservatives old Tribes administrations, probably too libertarian for the new government too, but smart enough to not clash with the status quo.

 

Nate aptitude and qualification levels were off the charts.

  
  


When his parents asked him what he wanted to specialise in, the twelve years old didn't doubt his answers, he had two years to think about it.

  
  


"Military school? But Nate dear, I know you can now apply to whatever you want but there has to be something else you want to do. Military school is not only physically challenging but usually populated with individuals from Gad, Simeon and Levi!" Nate mother implored, it was one thing to agree to the promise of an equal new system, but it was a completely different matter when it was your child being sent to the wolves. "They... they are brutes! I'm sure some might be lovely but... There must be better options for you Nate, please."

 

Nate looked at his father, knowing that even if he did not really like it or it wasn't what the older man would have chosen for him, he would support his decision.

Because his father understood the same primal truth that Nate, even in his young age, had realised: the world as they knew it didn't exist anymore, the past was burning away and no one knew what was still to come.

 

What Nate knew with certainty was that the change had started with Chaos and his circle. Chaos, from the tribe of Gad; a military grunt with no superior studies in strategy or politics. But Chaos Mattis from Gad had risen and against all odds had won, eradicating the tribe segregation system.

Chaos had gone to military school, like most of the people from his tribe, like most of his inner circle.

As far as Nate was concerned, not only his future but the Twelve Worlds’ future were in Chaos and his men’s hands.

  
  


The worlds were changing, and Nate wanted to be part of that change.

  
  


**********************************

  
  


(prophet's voices)

  
  


> _"It was fucking clustefuck, I'm telling you. Operation Free the Tribes was a fucking mess. I mean, it was good and dandy when they started. I'm sure that Chaos really wanted to liberate the people of the Twelve Tribes so everybody could do whatever the fuck they wanted, and he basically could then go and get that piece of trim he spent a decade moaning over. But oh man, the amount of retardation of most of that bunch of dudes had no limit. They fucked up the movement with their incompetence and stupidity."_
> 
> __  
>    
> 
> 
> _"They were men still living in the past, my man. They could not see the future because the horrors of the past blinded them."_
> 
> __  
>    
> 
> 
> _"Yeah, whatever you say homes… If they only managed to get their head out of their asses then maybe they could have seen that any revolution needs a post evolution. Fuck, even a simple grunt from Levi like me knows about that."_
> 
> __  
>    
> 
> 
> _"We needed a vision brother, someone to open the path to greatness for us so we could follow."_
> 
> __  
>    
> 
> 
> _"Yeah man, we needed another shiny white boy, from Judah this time for fuck's sake! I would despair in the stupidity of all this if it wasn't because fuck man; he was a fucking force of nature! There was no way all those fuckers who opposed him could beat him. Not when he only wanted to do the right thing, his words man not mine, when no one in the Tribes had really known what the fucking right thing was for centuries."_
> 
> __  
>    
> 
> 
> _"Don't make me start with dear Nathaniel man, we all were more than willing to follow him to our own graves, like Josephites following the smell of gold homes. I blame Chaos and Godfather and fucking Samuel Whitmer! No, I'll tell you what, I fucking blame Brad!"_
> 
>   
>    
> 

**********************************

  
  


The acceptance letter to military school took most people by surprise. A skinny twelve year old from a rich Judah family? No way he could pass the strategic physical tests!

No one that knew Nate was surprised by his success, though.

 

"You have a fire inside your soul that fuels your determination" his mother, Nitzebeth, used to tell him. "I can see it in you eyes, like two tiny embers burning".

 

And it wasn't like Nathaniel was from a lazy Asher family; the Ficks were originally from Hebron and even after moving to Gilgal for the convenience of their jobs, they usually took jump flights to their home world and trekked across the deserted lands around the Sea of Lot.

  
  
  


For Nate it was all about the challenge; to test his limits and surpass them, to beat people's expectations. Where teachers and classmates expected him to concede defeat, he thrived in their assumption that he would fail and worked to be faster, to be stronger, to resist, to survive… To become a weapon.

 

He overcame every test, he bested every skill and every course. That didn't make things easier.

  
  


To be singled out in a society that, up to a couple of years before, had no place for individual greatness wasn’t the best path to become popular.

 

'It doesn't matter' he would tell to himself, 'I'm not here to make friends'.

 

He had his classes, his training exercises, his own training and his books; he didn't need anything or anyone else. But he wanted it so much…

  
  


Nate had loved reading the classics since he was a young kid. He admired those heroes of old that fought and died years and years before the Twelve Wolds were united, long before the Twelve Tribes existed and even before men knew about the existence of other worlds. Tales of courage, brotherhood, honor and love. Tales of fighting against evil, fighting for what was right, fighting and living next to you comrades. Tales of love that surpassed the mere attraction of the flesh and the need to reproduce. Tales about kings, gods, demigods, mythical creatures, wise  men that held all kinds of knowledge…

 

Alexander, Lawrence, Perseus, Turin, Heracles, Aquiles, Gil-Galad, Ajax, Jason, Theseus… All those great men accompanied him in his progress; who needed friends when could have heroes guiding their steps?

  
  
  
  


"You spend most of you free time reading old books," someone said from behind Nate, who was laying in the grass of the running fields. "If you really like the classics that much you should probably have stayed in Law track".

 

Nate felt the old burning rage from his early days in the Academy, when everybody kept telling him that he should go back to Law or Politics School, igniting once again. He turned around ready to launch a verbal attack, the words already half formed, when he found himself face to face with Samuel Whitmer, head of the Space Combat School.

 

Fourteen years old cadet Fick jumped from the grass, standing up into the salute position. Captain Whitmer was one of the officers that had supported Chaos from the beginning, and was the main instructor of the only graduating school that had a command track in all the military corps. The one and only School that Nate aimed to end in when he finished Basic Military Training in two years.

 

"Sir", he saluted respectfully, and looked directly at the captain waiting to be addressed again.   When Whitmer didn't say anything else and raised an eyebrow, in a silent challenge, Nate took the risk and let early spark of defiance guide his words.

"I'm doing well in all my courses Sir, better that well if I may to say myself, Sir. I've taken all the possible extra classes and I train on my own whenever I have the chance. The way I see it, reading about the old heroic times is part of my personal training too, Sir".

  
  


Whitmer looked at him for a few seconds and then bent down and grabbed the book that Nate had been reading, and took a look at the contents.

 

"Sir…"

 

"At ease, Cadet Fick" Whitmer interrupted him, and shaking his head lightly added "Warp geometry? I have to confess that's not what I was expecting, not the usual reading for someone from Judah, engineering is more a Zebulun track, why the interest?"

 

"Permission to speak freely, Sir?" Nate asked, chewing his lip nervously.

 

"Permission granted cadet, I wouldn't have asked otherwise," Whitmer answered chuckling at Nate obvious dilemma between maintaining respect and defending himself.

 

"I don't care at all what the old course tracks said, Sir; as far as I'm concerned those limitations were abolished with the last education reform," Nate said. "I'm going to be an officer, Sir, and I want to lead my men into battle with the confidence that I can command them in any imaginable situation, and then some. To do that I need to understand more than just the principles of war and which are the best maneuvers for a float attack. I need to understand how my ship works so I know what I can ask from my pilots or what I can demand from my engineers to increase the efficiency of our flight or fight capabilities. I need to know our laws and read the Old Books so I can have an informed opinion when our Worlds keep evolving. I need to learn diplomacy and read all the Philistine records because we are in the brink of war, I…"

 

"What makes you believe we are close to be at war with the Philistines, cadet Fick?" Whitmer interrupted sharply.

 

"Sir, there has been a price increase in the most basic supplies in the last few months in the trading inter-solar markets, incidents in all the minor commercial routes between the Twelve Worlds and the neighbouring systems caused by Philistine troops have been reported, there's constant troops movement in their quadrants, and it's been ten years since we beat them… more than enough time to recover." Nate breathed deeply and braved himself to say something that could end his aspirations if Whitmer was not the kind of man he thought it was. "Our worlds were convulsed two years ago Sir, we are evolving, we are still changing, and that instability makes us look weak in the eyes of our enemies. To be honest Sir, I'm surprised they haven't attacked us earlier."

 

"An interesting analysis, cadet Fick," captain Whitmer finally said after a pause. He handed the book back to Nate and smiled. "Keep reading Nate, we might end up needing all that vast knowledge that your mind seems to be able to retain".

  
  
  


Two weeks later Nate was admitted in the Space Combat School after undertaking all the required tests and passing them all with perfect grades.

He had just skipped two years of basic training and was about to start going to class with boys two years older than him. He expected to have a hard time because all of that.

He still could not wait to begin.

 

~*~

  
  


"You are sure about this movement? You are not just making things harder for the kid, you are also requesting a change in the instruction model, Godfather does not think it's the best of ideas right now."

 

"I know, and I'm not asking to make those changes mandatory to everybody," Captain Whitmer said, looking at one of his interlocutors, the one who just questioned him. The three of them were standing around a holomap table, looking at the floating movements in the south west quadrant, near Kadesh, one of the farthest Judah worlds. "But I want to open the door to those kids that are curious enough to want to learn more about their default roles. We have engineers, doctors, linguists, even scientists in our ships and men from all the military tracks working next to them, but especially from Infantry and more in particular from the officer’s track. I want to allow the Infantry corporals the option to broaden their courses if they want to." Whitmer looked directly at his other interlocutor, who had remained silent all the while Godfather and him had been discussing matters. "We wanted to change things and we did so… We are not done though."

  
  


Godfather nodded in agreement after a few seconds, and both of them looked at the third man. Chaos’s eyes had not moved from the the holotable in all that time. He kept looking at the maps in front of him, hands gripping the edge of the table.

  
  


"Do it; it will come to bite us in our asses later, but you are right," Chaos said with an air of tired resignation. "It needs to be done".

  
  


**********************************

 

(prophet's voices)

 

> _"And here comes dear Bradley Jonathan Colbert. You know homes, I'm starting to think that all the revolutions started because of pussy, man. Well, or cock in this case, but you know what I mean; re-Evolution is about getting your dick wet, motherfuckers!"_

  
  


**********************************

  
  


Brad Colbert was the archetypal example of an excellent military recruit from Gad. Peak physical skills, efficient, intelligent, and in his opinion too smart to end in Command Track.

Some said that he was a lot like Chaos used to be when he was his age, who unlike Godfather and Whitmer, went to flight school like Brad.

Although as Ray tended to remind him "He ended being the fucking supreme commander of the Twelve Worlds homes!", so there's that. Brad didn't have any interest in leading others, at least not on a big scale. What he wanted more than anything was being a pilot, a recon pilot.

  
  


'Speed, the black, and no one who can touch me' was his usual answer when people asked him why the flight track and not commandancy.

  
  


Being in Space Combat School meant that he obviously knew who Nate Fick was, not that anyone in all the Military Academy didn't know about the Judah kid; after all there were just a handful of recruits from Tribes that usually didn't breed military men, and of those just one had skipped two years and had been accepted in SCS with some of the best grades recorded in years. But Brad was in second year when Fick started in SCS, and being in flight track meant that more than probably they wouldn't meet at all -unless Fick ended commanding him at some point, of course. Which suited Brad perfectly, he didn't think they would get along very well. Fick was clearly into command, and as far as Brad was concerned most of the commanders were morons.

  
  
  


It happened on the beginning of his third year in SCS, the first week to be exact, not that Brad will ever recognize that he had that moment branded in his memories.

 

He had been all day long listening to Ray and Poke over exaggerating their summers sex exploits; basically adding sex when Brad was more than certain that the closer his so-called friends had been of any pussy was the day they were born. He still wasn't sure about calling them friends, but they’d met in BSS and went together to SCS, although to different specializations: Brad was a helmsman, a pilot to the core; Ray was a navigator, a brilliant but annoying one and Poke was into weapons and tactical. Brad tried his best to get rid of them the first year of SCS but, as Poke kept telling him "suck it up Iceman, you are stuck with us".

And he was more or less ok with that, but after the summer break he usually needed some time to get used to have his noisy and chatty friends around again.

Which led us to the point of Brad being in the open space simulator at nearly midnight. He needed the black: the solitude, emptiness and silence that the space could provide him. It was release, same than piloting, but flight simulators were closed at night and it was too early in the year to start hacking the systems.

He was already suited up and really looking forward to lose himself in the black when he saw that someone else was in the simulator.

Brad swore mentally, he wasn't used to share the black at night; in three years this was the first time he had encountered another student and he wasn't in the mood at all to deal with another human being at the moment. Brad didn't recognize the other guy though. And yeah, he had his back turned to Brad, standing in the jumping hatchway; but it was weird nevertheless as open space simulations were a particular class that usually was taken by recon pilots, and Brad knew everybody from that track.

  
  


"It terrifies me," the other guy said. He was nearly as tall as Brad, slim but clearly strong; combat flight suits didn't left anything to the imagination. Brad still had no idea who the hell the other student was and why he was confessing his fears to a total stranger. "The black I mean, total and absolute emptiness." If that was a way to seek some kind of advice or comfort of what-fucking-ever, today was not the fucker’s lucky day. "The absence of sound…" Brad was not fucking babysitter. "I've never tried before." For god’s sake, Brad though exasperated, if he starts crying I'm gonna kill myself. "Fear, I never thought I would feel it… like frozen lava in my bloodstream." Brad stopped his track of thoughts, that was not what he was expecting.

 

He wasn't expecting either to be confronted with the greenest eyes he had even seen; bright, luminous, intense and totally fearless, when the other guy turned around.

 

Nate Fick, because it was fucking Nathaniel David Fick, smiled at him and Brad felt frozen on the spot and burning in the inside at the same time.

 

"And that's why it's so fucking exciting," Fick said, jumping backwards into the black.

 

'Well, fuck me' Brad thought.

 

The rest as they usually say, it's history.

  
  


**********************************

 

(prophet's voices)

 

> _"People's been fighting over the Twelve bitches since ancient times, Dog. Think about all the winsome and science and money and love, and the courage of all the men who were born in the different Tribes and the love they had for their wives, their mistresses and their fucking brothers in arms. And all that hate, Dog. All the hate it took to oppress your own people and then to blow those motherfuckers away. And then shiny White Boy came along and fucking fell in love with another white boy. It's destiny, Dog."_

 

**********************************

 

Four years after Nate told Commander Whitmer that they would be at war again, the Philistines finally attacked. It was during Nate's last year at the academy, which was actually a year earlier than the usual SCS course, but Nate had never done things the usual way.

  
  
  


"They had taken his time, I expected them to attack sooner," Nate said, carefully studying the holo-location of the Philistines troops, or at least of the ones they knew where they were.

 

"They were afraid, they didn't know how strong we still were and they hadn't had enough time to recover from the last war’s loses," Brad said, standing next to him. "They were waiting for some kind of signal, and the last couple of months of protests in Issachar and Benjamin Tribes are a fucking clear one. Internal instability means weakness."

 

"Fucking Philistines," Poke moaned from his sitting position, not even bothering to look at the updates in the troops movements. "I hate those hajis motherfuckers, but at least we may end kicking some ass!"

 

"Yeah man, and fuck those wine sippings, sun prayer bi-sexuals, revolutionaries dick sucks " Ray complained. "No offense intended oh great commander of ours," he added smiling lasciviously to Brad, who glared daggers at him.

 

"None taken," Nate replied without even raising his eyes from the maps. When he finally did his look was death serious, the kind of look that made Ray Person shut up, which was quite an accomplishment in Brad's opinion. "If you show people what freedom means but leave it just at that, a show; if you start a revolution but leave things half done it just a matter of time before some else get things in movement again. You wouldn't like if someone started sucking your cock and stopped nearly at the brink of coming, would you?" he questioned Ray with a smirk.

"Our worlds are changing gents, and we better ride that change."

 

~*~

 

"You are seriously considering giving Fick a command, aren't you?" Godfather asked.

 

Chaos remained impassive, looking through the glass of the Observatorium room, from where they were able to see the flag star float of the Tribes.

 

"You already know what I think," Whitmer interjected. "He's ready."

  
  


Mattis turned around and looked at his two loyal friends. They had been together since the beginning, when they were only kids playing to be men. Who could have know they would end ruling the Twelve Tribes…

 

"No, he's not", he finally said. "But it doesn't matter, he will be at the end."

 

~*~

  
  


When Whitmer informed Nate that he had been given the rank of commander he couldn't believe it. It wasn't that he had doubts in his abilities, it was just a matter of the time invested to get there.

A commandancy at eighteen years olds was ridiculous!

  
  


"Desperate times Nate," Whitmer told him.

 

More than desperate I would say, Nate thought when he received not only his rank but a black ship as well.

  
  
  


The Elah was a small dark-star explorer class ship, with just one fighter squadron but it was more than Nate had expected. He loved it, there was not another way around that, but for him it was the fact that he could choose his own crew that make all the difference. Because he could choose Brad, and that… That was all he needed.

  
  


Whitmer and Godfather had informed him of his orders: jump to the philistine frontier with the Judah sector and stop the Goliath, the battle vessel that was invading through the gates of Ekron. And Nate was confident, not only in himself but in his men as well. They were the best, SCS had allowed him the opportunity to create a circle of friends, comrades, companions with whom he felt like he could do the impossible.

That didn't make this first mission any less terrifying. But having Brad with him, as his helmsman, made all the difference. He remembered the first time they met, and how he told Brad that being terrified was exciting at the same time.

  
  


"She's perfect", Brad whispered the first time he clapped eyes in Elah. "Sleek, dark, and fucking beautiful…" It was kind of love at first sight, and Nate was more than happy to enjoy that infatuation through Brad's eyes. "I don't care if you end fucking ruling the universe, you are not allowed to command another ship if you expect me to be with you".

 

Nate laughed and extended his hand to Brad.

 

"Should I be jealous?" he asked, at the same time that interlaced their fingers and called to be transported inside the ship.

 

After being beamed in, Nate guided Brad to the bridge and let him look around.

 

Brad’s eyes drank in every detail, every console and panel, he just couldn't get enough of her. The only other time that he had felt like that was when he met Nate. Brad smiled at the thought, and turned to look at Nate.

 

"Would you consider a threesome?" he deadpanned, making Nate laugh until he kissed him to shut him up.

  
  
  


**********************************

(prophet's voices)

 

> _"It was fucking beautiful, that's what it was. Dear Nathaniel commanding the Elah against a fucking Battle Vessel, man! And he destroyed it with only tiny Elah and her one fighter squadron, it was like killing a giant with a stone thrown with a sling homes. The sling was Elah; the stone was Brad."_
> 
>  

**********************************

  
  


Nate knew he should have kept his mouth shut. He just couldn't stop himself.

It was wrong, it was wrong in so many ways that even if he had the opportunity to change anything now that he knew that he could end in one of the prison cells after being whipped, he still would do it all over again.

 

'How are we going to win the war against the Philistines when we keep attacking our own people sat the same time?' he mused while trying to rest on his belly so his back would avoid any kind of contact.

  
  


When his direct superior officer, First Commander Craig had ordered him to attack Geba, one of the worlds of the Benjamin sector, because of the social uprising of its people against the social impositions, Nate openly refused. He was not going to attack civilians. He was not going to kill his own people. He was not going to impart a punishment when he actually agreed with the uprisers.

  
  


He didn't said that to Craig, if he was going to be court martialed he at least wanted to be able to say what he thought in front of Chaos.

  
  


Commander Craig had immediately sent him to the brig, which had allowed him to see Brad for a few minutes.

  
  


"Sir, your leadership is the only thing I have absolute confidence in," Brad had said, his eyes trying to say every other word that he could not say when they were being watched. And it was the only thing Nate needed to hear. He grabbed Brad's hand through the prison’s bars and without breaking eye contact with Brad, wrote a message with his finger on Brad's palm.

  
  
  


When he had the opportunity to say in front of Chaos, Godfather, Whitmer and all the other high ranked commanders what he thought about their government and they all looked at him impassibly, his heart broke for the first time.

He always thought that Whitmer understood. He confided in Godfather words and plans because he thought at the end they seeked the same objective. He firmly believed that Chaos intended to keep moving forward with the changes The Tribes so needed.

He never thought he would be so wrong about something.

  
  


After the hearing, when sargent Griego had the opportunity to lash him, something that Nate thought the other man had always wanted to do, the only thought that kept Nate firm, not giving in and allowing Griego to see him defeated, was the certainty that Brad and the rest of his men were safe.

  
  


_R_

__  
  


_U_

__  
  


_N_

  
  
  


~*~

  
  
  


"You have allowed him to escape," Godfather accused.

 

"Of course I did!" Whitmer exclaimed. "Did you actually expect anything else? You know he's right, we can't keep terrorizing our own people."

 

"I know we can't but we are at war, we need order and discipline to win," Godfather replied. "And if we need to be feared by our own people to do it, then so be it."

 

"There are other options and you both know it, we could change, move forward, as Nate said our people is ready."

  
  


Chaos raised from his chair and went to observe in the holo-map the small scape capsule in which Whitmer had placed Nathaniel.

 

"Yes they are ready, but you are wrong," he finally said. "We won't win this war, he will; and they need to hate us so they would love him."

  
~*~

 

Nate didn't exactly remember the details of how he was able to escape. He only had assumptions… and he preferred to think he was right on those; it made him have faith again in what was right.

What he did remember was that at some point he regained conscience for long enough to program the escape capsule to jump to the nearest world where Brad could probably find him. Ein Gedi was a small world in Judah, near Hebron, in which they had spent a summer trekking across the deserts and enjoying the pleasure of the absolute peace of a remote oasis in the middle of nowhere.

Brad will find him, he was absolutely assured of that.

  
  


*****************************

  
  


(prophet's voices)

>  
> 
> _"And that's how it began man, fucking Nathaniel Fick and his merry band of White Boys championing the oppressed."_
> 
> _"Fucking A we did homes, and we kept kicking haji ass at the same time that we evaded being captured by the sorry excuse of hunting patrols that Chaos sent."_
> 
> _"Makes you wonder brother if he really wanted to stop us."_
> 
> _"Makes you wonder how the fuck we did all what we did with all the epic romance of dear Nathaniel and Bradley. It was fucking gay, that's what it was. I think all that fucking loving shit scared the hell out of the hajis and they all run away. And our people they all fell for the gay bromance homes, they thought it was the greatest thing since the Twelve Sons. The fucking power of love homes."_

  
  


**********************************

  
  


Gilboa was not a battle, was a massacre. A massacre that ended with a third of The Tribes float and ended the lives of Chaos and his inner circle.

  
  
  


"You should have stayed at Sidon" Godfather said looking at Chaos, who was bleeding profusely from one of his many injuries, not that him or Whitmer were any better.

 

"No, I needed to be here. I'm a warrior, a pilot, my place was always in a ship not in the government house." Chaos managed to said, his voice nearly as raspy as Ferrando's.

 

"You did what it was needed at the time. You started it, we made it through..." Whitmer interjected, helping him stand up. The ship was burning, the philistines kept attacking them and they knew it was a matter of minutes before they all died.

 

"We broke the system," Godfather said, a smile in his voice.

 

"The worlds are changing but we won't be here so see it," Chaos added. "It's not our fight anymore."

 

”It's been a pleasure to serve with you gentlemen,” the three said at the same time just before being obliterated into the black by the last explosion.

  
  


~*~

  
  


When the news of the Gilboa deaths reached the whole of the Twelve Tribes people feared the worst; they might have heated the military regime that Chaos imposed after the revolution but being invaded by the Philistines was not a better option.

  
  


A name started being claimed in the streets though, in every world: Nathaniel. He was nearly a legend, some even doubted he actually existed, but he was loved nonetheless.

 

And he did raise to the challenge. He and his men flew to Gilboa and annihilated all the philistines that remained there. It was his way to mourn the deaths of those he had loved and admired.

 

~*~

  
  


"I want to go home," he said to Brad. He felt tired but there was still too much to do. He hadn't been to Hebron in years, but it was still home to Nate. And he knew it was the right place to start changing things. To burn the last bridges with their past and start an Evolution.

 

~*~

  
  


"I thought you were the smartest person I'd ever meet, Nathaniel. And then you decided you wanted a fucking republic and being named military councillor and temporal High Commander of the Tribes while we finish kicking haji ass" Nate heard Brad said just behind him. He knew Brad wouldn't exactly like this agreement, after all he hated politics, but he knew he would follow Nate anyway. "I'm starting to consider being wrong for first time".

 

"And yet you are coming to Meggido with me" Nate replied.

 

"Well, I love Elah and I don't trust you anymore with her," Brad said, circling Nate, who was standing against the rim of the holo-table in the Commander rooms of the ship . "Who knows what other crazy ideas you got on that pretty head of yours".

 

"I was thinking about giving you her command permanently, but it could be one of those crazy ideas of mine," Nate said, a soft smile in his lips.

 

"So you would expect me to ship you around? Lame Nathaniel…" Brad interjected and rested his forehead against Nate's. "What am I going to do with you?"

 

"You are going to follow me to Tel Megiddo," Nate answered, his eyes bright and intense, looking at Brad. "We are going to finish this war in the fucking Armageddon if that's what it takes."

 

"To the fucking end of the Worlds I'd follow you," Brad breathed.

 

"And speaking of fucking…" Nate added chuckling, "we could do that too".

 

"I know there was a reason why I liked you so much. You always make the best plans, Sir".

  
  
  


~ the end ~

  
  



End file.
